


Beneath (ᵀᴿᴼᴸᴸᴴᵁᴺᵀᴱᴿˢ)

by outtapaint



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, DEAAAATH, Draal cries at some point, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Other, Short Chapters, Why Did I Write This?, a troll oc how original, angsty, chapters start out short, fluff n stuff, gumm-gumm magic ya'll, im writin a fanfic im clearly obsessed, maybe baby trolls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 06:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15043271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outtapaint/pseuds/outtapaint
Summary: You'd think a troll would know that a surface is always covering something.───✧─I own/don't own─✧Dreamworks | ☓Characters | ☓Plot | ✓ & ☓OCs | ✓





	1. “One day.”

 

> ** “ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍʏ ʟɪᴍʙs ** **ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ. ”** **~e.e.**

       Harder, Draal.  Faster, Draal.  More, Draal.   _Finish it, Draal_.  Draal would be satisfied when he was Trollhunter, but until then, he trained – harder each day.  The Amulet of Daylight chose his father to be its bearer and Draal knew that someday that honor would pass on, but only to the best.  So hour after hour he worked, determined to become the perfect successor should his father meet his ill-timed end.  Draal was an indomitable opponent – a champion! It was his destiny.

       "One day, Father," he had said. "One day I shall take your place as Trollhunter and carry on your glorious legacy."

       A vow he had every intention of keeping. For years he prepared himself for that sorrowful yet wonderful day. Then, it came. And there was only sorrow.

       His father was dead.

       And the Amulet hadn't called him.


	2. “Amulet Chose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what even is my writing style ?

> ** “ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀɴɢᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀɴᴇᴀᴛʜ.” - ** **_eckhart tolle_ **

       Draal didn't close his eyes that night; tossing, turning, wrestling with his doubts over the one thing in his life he had always been certain. If not him, then who? The thought of the mantle passing on from his father to someone worthier _burned_. HE was the rightful heir and all of Trollmarket knew it!

       Soon bored of his walls, Draal trudged out of his cave and kept to the lonliest shadows of Trollmarket. He didn't care for the looks he had been receiving. Sympathy. Curiosity. Confusion. Everyone knew. They were _waiting_. There were complications this time, he felt he should roar. Complications . . .

       He was going to be Trollhunter.

       “It is a heavy responsibility to shoulder," Kanjigar had said. "It will test you in many ways. But I have faith you will prove yourself, my son."

       The corners of Draal's mouth twitched. If he had been there . . .

       Ah, but he couldn't blame himself for his father's death. To be Trollhunter was to be willing to give your life for the good of trollkind, answering the call no matter where it led you. The expectations were high and Kanjigar had exceeded them all, and Draal would not disappoint him. Draal growled at himself, loathing the funny feelings pressing into his chest. _Wretch!_ he spat. _Stop pitying yourself!_ He had no use for these emotions of . . . grief! Not now.

       Having tucked himself into an alcove near Ely the Odd's smoke shop, he brooded.  All day.  Sullenly, he watched customers come and go, the therapeutic fumes changing color with each new visitor and swathing his hiding place in its odd scent. Then, he saw them.

       Humans.

       ". . . You'll find most anything you need and sometimes you'll find what you never knew you needed."

       Draal turned his head, coldly regarding the two fleshlings as they walked by following that insufferable conspiracy theorist, Blinky. For what came close to minutes all he could do was stare after them — disgusted, enraged, and confused all at once. What in Deya's name were they doing here? Who brought them in?!

       He was getting to the bottom of this. Curling his lip in a snarl, Draal  burst out of his hiding place and stalked down the street with clenched fists. It didn't take long for him to spot them in the market square gawking at the Heartstone along with Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!!. Those two . . . Eugh! Growling, Draal started toward them.

       "Draal!"

       He paused, but only because he didn't recognize the voice. Annoyed, he looked over his shoulder to see a soot-covered lapidary glaring at him from the entrance of a masonry, a coping saw in hand and a child clinging to her leg. Arching a brow, Draal looked her up and down with an aggravated expression. Did he know her?

       . . .

       Majul. That was her name. What did _she_ want? She had the ugliest look on her face that immediately rubbed him the wrong way, her dark eyes digging holes into him in warning and disapproval. Well, Draal wasn't going to take that from anyone — especially the likes of a witch! There were rumors she practiced more than simple crystal magic, and after one look into her eyes, Draal believed them all. Black as The Deep and cold as dead stone. It was hard for Draal to picture her as a mother.

       Scowling at her, Draal jerked around and continued to stomp toward the gathering crowd. "What is this?!" he bellowed, shoving his way to the front where, indeed, the lightwalkers were.

       Blinky jumped, backing away as the warrior thundered up.

       “I was just getting to that, Draal," he said meekly.

       "Human feet have never sullied the ground of Trollmarket before," Draal growled, slitting his eyes at the two humans. " _Who_ are these fleshbags?" He bared his teeth as he came threateningly close to the first one. Males. The first had onyx hair that was cut to his ears and neatly combed down; tall, lanky with pale skin and widened eyes that were as clear blue as lake water, the second having a much wider build and bright jasper hair that stuck out in odd places — polar opposites of each other.

       The historian looked everywhere except Draal, worry setting into his face as he nervously drummed his fingers together.

       “He is, uh, how do I put this? Our new Trollhunter,” he admitted with a weak smile.

       Draal stiffened. Gasps sounded throughout the crowd, and for a breathless moment, all he could do was stare blankly at the nervous human. No. Hah — no. NO. The mantle . . . it was choosing HIM.

       "He can't be the Trollhunter!" he roared — practically crying it out. "He's not a troll!" He threw his fists onto the ground in front of the boy, making him stumble back with a yelp into AAARRRGGHH!!! who placed a protective arm between him and Draal.

       "Amulet chose," AAARRRGGHH!!! said firmly. They knew nothing! Furious, Draal gave a gutteral roar but the larger troll stood his ground without so much of a blink, the pathetic stick-of-a-boy cowering into him.

       “Try to remain calm," Blinky said quickly, and it took all of Draal's self-control not to throw him over his head. "Destiny is just — "

       “Show him, Jimbo!”

       Draal's eyes darted to the other human huddled behind Blinky. He was glaring at him, suddenly not so afraid. Show him?

       Shoulders trembling, Draal watched as "Jimbo" nervously reached into his pocket and pulled out . . .

       He heard a familiar incantation, followed by the even more familiar crashes of suiting armor, then Draal found himself looking down at his destiny.

       Definitely complications.


End file.
